


Payback’s  Son of a Bitch

by firefly124



Series: Femslash February 2016 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, bunker!fic, implied dean/cas, spnfemslashbingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:17:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefly124/pseuds/firefly124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was only fair, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Payback’s  Son of a Bitch

“Son of a bitch!” Dean’s voice echoes through the bunker.

You look at Charlie across the pile of books you’re working through, and you both giggle. 

At the next table, Sam shakes his head and mutters, “Can’t believe he fell for that.”

Wet feet stomp (or try to) into the Men of Letters Library, and you look up innocently to where Dean is now standing in a fuzzy gray robe, still dripping wet, and with purple hair.

“Seriously, Sam?” he demands. “What are we back in elementary school?”

Sam looks up from his research. “You’re right, Dean. I haven’t tried that one on you in a long-ass time. Don’t think I’d bother resurrecting it now either.”

“What are you ...?” Dean finally turns to look at you and Charlie. “You two? Seriously?”

“Hey, handmaiden,” Charlie says, “I warned you that you were going to pay for failing to knock. You got a pass that first time because of the whole, ‘people are dying’ and ‘thinking I was in danger’ thing. But the other night? Not so much.”

“What, you didn’t think the brain bleach wasn’t enough? Because, gotta say, right up there with walking in on Sam doing it,” Dean retorts.

You’re pretty sure the look he had on his face the other night was less about brain bleach and more about how he was going to hell (again) for standing there watching rather than not letting the door slam on his ass on the way out. But whatever. At least he hadn’t permanently killed the mood.

“No, it wasn’t,” you say. “Otherwise that’d be a much brighter shade.”

You’re pretty sure the glare he shoots you is usually reserved for vampires, or possibly demons.

“This is not over,” he says, pointing first at Charlie, then at you. Then back at Charlie and back at you. A few times. Kind of kills the effect he seems to be going for, which he eventually realizes and stomps off.

“You know, maybe I should find a motel room,” Sam says, closing his book and pushing away from the table. “In another state. Or go check on how Alex and Claire are doing with Jody. She might still have some of Bobby’s books in storage ...”

“Or you could help us,” Charlie points out.

“Oh, hell, no! You wanted my help, you should’ve taken my original advice.”

“Dude, not only would that be creepy, but then _we’d_ need the brain bleach,” you retort. “Besides, it’s not Cas’ fault, and that’d get him too.”

“Well, it’s not my fault either, and I’m getting the hell out of Dodge before I get caught in the crossfire.” He grabs a couple of books and heads for his room.

After a second, you look back to Charlie. “Any chance this ends with us having the bunker to ourselves?”

A smirk starts on one corner of Charlie’s lips and blooms into a huge grin. “I dunno, but we can try.”


End file.
